Who Are You
by Skylaar Wolf
Summary: Alex Rider. The druggie. A student. The loser. A sick student. The freak. A lost child. Was he any of these? Was he none of these? He was certainly a mystery, but who was Alex Rider? Two-shot from an ex-friend's POV and a teacher's POV.
1. Who Are You

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alex Rider. If you think I do, then please, go bang your head against the mirror.

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Alex Rider.

The druggie. The loser. The sick kid. The freak. The gangster.

Who was he? _Well he's my friend._ At least, Sam thought he was. Who is he anyway? Is he all of those? Or he is none of those? Alex Rider. The kid, the blond brown-eyed guy, _my ex-friend... _what was he to Sam? He used to be cool. Sam recalled those days where he was like any other kid. Yeah... the kind that got good grades, was good at something, had a big group of friends... laughed... had fun... was a kid. He didn't do that anymore. Alex didn't laugh. He didn't have fun. Did that mean Alex Rider, Sam's previous friend, wasn't a kid anymore? So... what was he?

Sam could be watching Alex in class one day and the next he just wouldn't be there. No one got sick that much. What illness in the world makes you sick for weeks at a time? Sam most definitely couldn't think of any at all unless you were simply placed in the hospital 24/7. That was not the case though. So what was the case? A druggie? No, Alex wasn't the type. Sam knew that wasn't him, that wasn't the Alex he knew. The signs did add up, slightly, but there was always a crack. Always something that didn't add up, something wrong. He was always tired, could that be a sign of drugs?

Alex's grades were dropping, he was never there. What would have caused that? Could he be stupid enough to actually not come to school? Over a handful of drugs? No... a loser. Is that what he had become? Sam frowned as he thought, absentmindedly walking to class. He didn't care if he was late, why would he? The worst he would get would be a warning. Who cares.

_A loser huh? Is that what you've become Alex Rider?_ Sam's forehead creased in thought. Could he really think of his friend, his ex-friend, as a loser? Was Alex a loser? He wasn't before. He never was. He's cool, well, used to be at least. Something was wrong, Sam knew it. Somehow, no one had the eyes to see it. Alex wasn't didn't do drugs. He wasn't a loser. He wasn't sick. Yes he was weird, but he wasn't a freak. Alex didn't necessarily do anything out of the norm. At least, nothing that no one could see.

No one except Sam. He did something, something dark. Sam opened his classroom door, just as the bell rang. At least he wasn't late. "Sam, it's nice of you to join us. I expect you'll be here earlier tomorrow...?" Mr. Currier phrased it like a question, but the message was implied. Don't be late again. Whatever, he didn't care. Sam sighed as he made his way toward his chair, "Yes sir." He could here quiet snickers. He didn't find it funny, but then again, everyone was late once in awhile. Same pulled out his chair silently and sat down, letting his bag fall to the floor.

His light blue eyes searched the room. There. Alex Rider. That kid. So, he actually showed up today. Sam watched him, as did nearly everyone else. His head was down, blond locks falling over his face as he took notes. Sam inwardly snorted, could he be wrong? No way, maybe it was an act. Sam studied his actions. The way Alex glanced up the board, tired, but eager. His eyes were cleared at the moment, concentrated. That wasn't how he used to look. He used to be like everyone else, bored. _Not_ wanting to study. Why did he change? Why did he want to learn? What was wrong? Couldn't he tell his friend?

Obviously not. He only told that kid. Tom Harris. Why him though? Was Sam not a good enough friend? Had he failed as a friend? What had he done wrong? Consciously he knew it was not just him, but rather Alex Rider. He was the one who changed. Had he? Yes, he was different. Sam could see he was tensed, always. He looked calm, but he seemed ready to jump out at a moment's notice. Why would he need to do that? Sam knew about the bullying, the whispers. He never joined them, but he never stopped them. What was he going to do? He himself did not want to be gossiped about.

Alex didn't seem to care though, words falling on deaf ears. He was busy working, always working, always doing something. Sam did this, every day, watching him as did others. He wasn't a stalker, but he wanted to find out what was happening. Every time he disappeared, Alex would always come back different, darker, something always changed. His eyes were always flickering back and forth, watching everything and everyone. Why...? His body would flinch at loud noises, regular noises caused by stupid teenagers. Why...? His face covered in minuscule scars and bruises. Hardly noticeable, simply accidents he would always claim. Was that what really happened?

_Why can you confess Alex Rider? Let the world know? Can we not help? Were we not there for you enough? Why Tom Harris? Why him? That kid. Can anyone help? What's happening? Is it a bother... us trying to help? Can't you let us in, just a bit? Let someone in? Mr. Bray? Mrs. Bedfordshire? Me? Have you told Tom? If I asked, would he tell? Why...? _Sam's eyes narrowed._ Alex Rider... who are you?_

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	2. Always A Mystery

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alex Rider.

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Wonderful.

One word. That's all Mr. Donavan could really think as he glanced at one of his pupil's from across the room. Was it really wonderful? Rather, it was more wonderful, but more so in a sarcastic kind of way. A frown fitted onto his face, and he found it was the kind of expression he used often when he thought of this pupil in particular.

Alex Rider.

Mr. Donavan was an instructor at Brookland School. In fact, he had been teaching for eighteen years. By no means would he consider himself a scholar at educating the youth, however, nor could he manage to group himself with the incapable teachers. However, in all his years, never had a student aroused such a bought of emotions within him. Curiosity. Suspicion. Sadness. Anger. Annoyance. Uncertainty.

Alex Rider was a mystery. He used to be a good student, a great student actually. A young, handsome boy that seemed popular among his peers. He seemed to have many friends, and as Mr. Donavan recalled a few incidents, he was sure he had at least a few in this class too. Yet... it was a wonder... a mystery of what had happened. What happened to the student who used to smile? What happened to his friends? What happened to his will to discuss and participate in class? Under normal circumstances, Mr. Donavan would be pleased with how his student managed to raise some interest in his... will to learn, even if his grades didn't exactly show it. Yet, he was worried.

The man watched for a moment longer before he turned in his swivel chair. His deep brown eyes met the contrasting brightness of the screen; Mr. Donavan paused to move his glasses aside to massage between his eyes. They almost hurt from looking at the small black print all day, especially at a certain series of letters that happened to spell out a certain name. It was a small wonder why, considering his classroom was very bright due to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Absentmindedly, he began checking off the students who were absent. Thomas. Marcy. Sa-

_Click._

He glanced up, brown eyes peering at the student from behind his spectacles. "Sam, it's nice of you to join us. I expect you'll be here earlier tomorrow?" It was not a question. His ears caught a small answer, to what seemed to be an apology, but he let it be. He quickly unchecked the mark he had just made, and moved to stand.

As the shock, and slight suspicion left Mr. Donavan, he quickly got back into school routine. He wrote down notes. He gave examples. He called on a few students, particularly the ones who don't seem to be paying attention, and especially the ones who did not pay attention and chose to spend their time whispering and gossiping about _other_ _students_. He asked for questions. He gave homework. He remind Sam to be on time to class tomorrow. He reminded himself to save some notes for Thomas and Marcy. The bell rang; it was time to erase the board.

His hands moved on their own accord; erasing was no difficult task and required none of his attention span. As Mr. Donavan finished cleaning his notes for the next class, a flash of blond hair caught the sunlight from the corner of his eye. He turned his head, eyes catching those of none other than the one student his mind seemed to just... forget.

Without a word, waiting to see what Alex would say, Mr. Donavan made his way back to his desk, where the boy now stood. He stood. So still, so serious. Before, Mr. Donavan might have guessed he was asking permission to do something... childish. Maybe he would have asked to print a paper for his next class. Perhaps, he might have had a question over the morning's material. He could have even lost a lunchbox.

Not anymore. Mr. Donavan could say with confidence, could in fact say the exact words that would come from Alex Rider's mouth.

"Mr. Donavan, can I have last week's homework?"

Yes, the homework question. Alex quickly went on, while calm, it seemed he already knew of Mr. Donavan's suspicions. "I know I'm absent a lot, but I can't help getting sick." Mr. Donavan certainly had suspicions, and while he and several other teachers agreed that something was wrong, the doctor's notes said otherwise. What could he say to that? He wanted to help Alex, yet he just wasn't so sure anymore. A sigh escaped him, from the stress or the uncertainty or his tired thoughts on the situation, he didn't know.

"I-"

"I promise I will get them back to you by tomorrow."

A breath escaped his lips; it seemed he was only digging a further hole. Was there nothing he could do? He didn't know what was wrong, but something was. He couldn't just ask the child, after all, by legal means, he really was just sick. A lot. While Mr. Donavan wanted to help, he didn't want his student slacking either. It was then he decided, whatever problem Alex Rider had, he better fix it.

But he was no monster.

"Calm down, Alex. We learned a lot over the past week, namely factoring, and that's an important part of Algebra 2, should you decide to go into that class." He paused to assess his student's reaction. Nothing; he sighed. "Now, between you and I, I don't believe this... charade you have going on about being sick."

He turned around, pushing away a few folders and files on the desk that sat behind him. He waited, listening as he listened for something, anything really. Nothing. Mr. Donavan waited a moment longer, before he finally found the right papers. The man turned back around, looking down at Alex. He seemed indifferent to anything he just said; how unfortunate. "However..." It was here where Mr. Donavan thought he saw something flicker in his student's eyes, but when he blinked, he suddenly wasn't sure. "While you were absent, I have been noticing you have been at least keeping up with the material on your return."

Mr. Donavan reached out and Alex looked down. The paper read "Factoring 1.0", and the notes were already filled in. "You just need to do homework one and two. I can drop the grade for three, but I expect full marks on the ones you turn in on Monday. Do I make myself clear?" It was rather cliché, he admitted, but he refused to acknowledge the fact that he was helping a student, let alone one that missed school so often.

Alex blinked and looked at the paper, but then... a small smile graced his face. It wasn't happy, but it seemed... almost thankful. He murmured a quiet thanks and was gone before Mr. Donavan could reply. It wasn't like there was much to say though, but it seemed that whatever was troubling Alex, wouldn't go away so easily by such a small act of kindness. Mr. Donavan wouldn't admit he was being kind, but he did at least hope it would give him some leeway in figuring out the mystery that was Alex Rider, of who he was.

_Who are you, Alex Rider?_

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So... first thing, Happy New Years! Goodbye 2011 and hello 2012! :) Okay, aside from that (and a happy 2010 and 2011 to those who have come back), I didn't plan on making a second part to this one-shot. It has been quite awhile (a bit over two years), so obviously, my writing as changed (at least, I hope it as, for the better that is). Nonetheless, I do admit, I missed the few reviews I got from this small "story" (if you want to call it that). I went back over the reviews and was a bit inspired to write this small piece. It's not much, but I hope my readers enjoy! Please don't expect a third part to this little "series", but, hey... in two years? Maybe. Please review and/or favorite!


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